


Soft Lips Open, Them Knuckles are Pale.

by Scarvesandtrenchcoats



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Basically Marriell is enamoured with Eugene, Declarations Of Love, First Time, M/M, Post War, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25666534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarvesandtrenchcoats/pseuds/Scarvesandtrenchcoats
Summary: “Want you” his breath hot against his own stubble, long nose at his ear.He’d finally get to see it. He’d get to see how he made him blush.Merriell waits a long time to see how Eugene blushes for him.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27
Collections: Sledgefu Week 2020





	Soft Lips Open, Them Knuckles are Pale.

He’d never really been able to tell if he made him flush pink, or red, or a beautiful inbetween. It had always been dark, their wanderinghands places they shouldn’t have been when so many others were close by.

He’d seen the guys tease him about sex, girls, whatever crude nonsense that was standard daily conversation when they were bored and waiting; then, then it was pink. A beautiful washed out watercolour across his pale freckled cheeks that spread to the tips of his ears and down his elegant neck, to his collarbone. He imagined his teeth against it, scraping over the pink; turning it red.

He’d seen him lose it; yelling, cursing, throwing around slurs he never would have uttered if he hadn’t set foot on these damn islands. Then, then it was red. All he'd wanted to do was to hold him, he wanted the red gone from his face, the tips of his ears, his chest. Pressed tight against him, the red would seep into him, the anger that he hadn’t protected him from all of this boiling up inside his own body.

The door clicked shut. Silence. No gunfire, no wailing, no orders, no shouting. Nothing.

“It’s not much.....” he shrugged.

“Stop.”

“I.........you... you don’t have to stay with me.” His voice broke at the thought of being alone. He hadn’t been alone for years. The thought terrified him.

“Yes I do.”

Then he was kissing him. His back pressed against the peeling wallpaper, before he arched into the firm body pinning him against the wall.

Gasping against that pink mouth, long lips plush against his own, then dragging along his jaw.

“Want you” his breath hot against his own stubble, long nose at his ear.

He’d finally get to see it. He’d get to see how _he_ made him blush. 

Uniforms discarded on the floor, a mossy green path led to the bed, across the bare floorboards.

The old ceiling fan attempted to cut into the humid air with a weak _thump thump_ ; interspersed with pleads and praise from among the tangled white sheets.

“Yes....yes.....please.....” his mouth opened around a silent scream as he nodded his head, the fingers inside him brushing over nerves he hadn’t known existed.

“So good for me baby......so beautiful” he remained transfixed on his face, eyes never wavering from his pale, sweaty skin. It had become a mission for him; make him blush.

He wanted to watch it travel down his neck and up to the tips of his ears, watch as his chest heaved under hot skin. The colour? Well that was the question he needed answering, he was delirious over the fact he’d finally get to see it.

His own chest flamed hot and sticky, his tanned skin, red. Red with arousal, restraint, passion, the build up of so much pain; his face burning as he pushed inside and was enveloped by warmth and tightness that spread to every part of him. He cried out, tears threatening to spill as he watched him grit his teeth below him.

“Okay?” His voice wobbled, very much not okay himself.

“Mmmmm.....will be. Just....give me a minute.” His hips shifted, lips parting on a panting moan, pale fingers grasping at tanned biceps, bruising his skin. He hoped they’d never fade.

“Move.”

The whisper came too soon. He needed to compose himself. He watched transfixed as the pale skin around those hazel eyes crinkled; eyes scrunching closed as he welcomed the thrusts inside him.

His dog tags dragged up the sweaty skin below him, joining the other set laying stark against milky skin shining with sweat. The soft chime of their meeting was inexplicably loud in the thick, stale air, as the bed began to creak below the sweat stained sheets.

“Please......” his brow furrowed as his he threw his head back, exposing his elegant neck; inviting a mouth to suck at his pulse point.

Never one to turn down such an invite, his curly head dropped and licked the saltiness from his jutting collarbone, lips trailing up, up to just below his jaw and sucking, as his hips continued their pace.

He felt long fingers against his scalp, pulling him sideways; repositioning his head so the clever tongue of his lover could explore his mouth once more. Groaning, his hips stuttered, pleasure coursing through him as their mouths met.

His blue eyes widened as he watched the ivory skin of the chest below him flush with arousal, back arching from the bed as he moaned, “There.......please.”

He placed his hands in the soft copper strands of his hair, weight on his elbows and face inches apart from the one person who he knew he loved more than anyone.

“C’mon” he whispered, feeling his legs shake around his hips, peering at his face he waited for a flush of colour, watched as he bit at his dry lips, gasping air into his lungs as his hips lifted up meeting the hard thrust that broke the wave of arousal crashing over him, wailing softly his nails dug sharply into the tanned skin still moving above him.

He smiled watching his face slacken, his body shuddering and jumping. He hid his disappointment in the juncture of his neck and shoulder as he rocked gently to his own release.

“Merriell?” He felt warm breath on his face, fingers in his hair, moist lips dragging over his eyelids.

“Eugene” he sighed, every muscle in his body was relaxed; the cheap, thin mattress feeling like a luxury, threatening to swallow him.

He turned, watching the tired hazel eyes blinking back at him slowly. Dragging his thumb along his cheek he knew now was the right time.

“I love you” he said, voice never wavering, never cracking. Steady as could be. His eyes never left his face as he watched open mouthed as that fair skin, turned the most beautiful shade of inbetween he had ever seen. He had no words to describe it as it spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, down his spit slicked neck and across his freshly bitten chest.

A colour like his mamas lipstick against a white tissue, the stain of red wine against a mouth, the pink of the fuzzy skin of a peach.

It was the perfect colour, because it was the colour of love.

“I love you too Merriell.”


End file.
